The writer’s block: where, how and why


We don’t use words, for a writer the writer’s block, and excuse the repetition, he is a terrible bastard. The feeling of not being able to throw down even a single syllable terrifies. For a writer to have no more words to write in black and white is a drama that sometimes causes an even more serious block, distancing himself from his passion for a long time.

Everything that is written begins to appear banal, useless, silly. One wonders why those pages should reach the hands of the hypothetical reader and, even worse, why that story should reach the conclusion.

Or you have such a confusion in your head that putting your hands on the keyboard, or the pen on the paper, weighs, the fact that weights do something you’ve always loved is even tearing to pieces. And prolonging that state of “I think about another little bit” or “continuous tomorrow” is convenient, but that “continuous tomorrow”, that “I have no time to write”, or “I wait for inspiration, it will come” is repeated once, two, three, until it becomes a bad habit.

Furthermore, reading other authors turns into a real torture … because everyone seems better and more talented than you. You start thinking about the books you loved so much, peeking over Wikipedia to see when they were written, in what moment of the writer’s life, and then tormenting yourself with a: “I at his age didn’t write anything like that, I suck” .

There are a thousand different reasons for doubting, and no one for trusting themselves. You find yourself stuck in the quicksand of discouragement.

But because it happens … the reasons can be many.
A cause can be linked to the character. You have doubts about him, you can’t hear him.

Sometimes I have written books all in one go. It happened to me when I felt the bond with my characters “fragile”, fragile in a good sense, fragile because it was not easy to keep alive, perhaps for a particularly difficult and elusive character by nature, or for a very difficult situation in which had been entered.

Then one writes fiery, with a constancy and a striving commitment, it happens to me. When I finish a book I am really exhausted most of the time, because I do a marathon, I chase the characters trying to keep up with them, but it often happens that they run faster than those who created them. We must learn to breathe with them, not to be overwhelmed but above all to never lose sight of them, to let them grow inside. In short, not to forget them.

The thread that connects the writer and his characters must never be broken. If it breaks, the block arrives. It’s almost mathematical. Writing pages with a character you no longer hear in your mind is very unpleasant, and it is better to stop rather than suffer this horrible pain. It’s like the character is dead.

And how could anyone ever revive a dead person?
Or the story has something wrong. You have that annoying feeling that things are not going as they should have, the chain of events is not working, or there could be disruptions of any kind that hold back.

And then we must necessarily stop, before reaching the point of a possible non-return, before arriving at the block. These sensations should not be ignored, never, otherwise everything can get worse and the story end up compromised.
You have to stop and analyze the events, perhaps with the help of a ladder, understand where the thread is tangled and untie the knot, cut off what annoys the story, correct the shot, if necessary.

History and characters can definitely turn into block baits, but there is another possible reason even more insidious … I’ll talk about it in the next episode!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

seven + 15 =